


Be careful around sharp objects

by HeyShakeALeg



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anotha one, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Other, bc immmm havin agood time, havin a g o o d t I m e, he doesn't really, he gets scared, i'll add more tags if needed, okay so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12465708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyShakeALeg/pseuds/HeyShakeALeg
Summary: Gaster isnt very careful around sharp objects





	Be careful around sharp objects

Waking up in the middle of the night was no fun really, especially when you barely got enough sleep to begin with.

Sitting up, eye wide, hands shaking, Gaster stared through the dark of the office. His office. The monsters hands took a while to turn on a light in the room, even though that was Gasters intent from the moment he woke. His desk lamp flickered to life and Gaster slowly, silently scanned his surroundings. 

No one was there. Of course. 

Everything was as it should be. Of course. 

It was late, everyone had gone home. Of course.

After he had established that, yes, everything was fine, Gaster looked down at the work he was doing. Filling out paperwork. Signature after signature each one looking the same. He'd been filing paperwork out for a while. The swirls and dips that composed his name looked so put together. So neat. So different from Gaster himself.

He stood up and walked away from the signatures continually piling up. It was troubling, feeling alienated by his own writing.

Gaster walked out of the office and into a darkened hallway. Light from his office poured through the entrance of the door, the rays of light trying to spill themselves further along the white floors. Gaster turned and closed the door, the light gone again.

Gaster than began to roam the halls. Roam wasn't the best word for what he was doing, he knew the labyrinth of a Lab better than anyone else. 

Gaster tried to get lost. That was a better way to say it. Gaster desperately wanted to become lost in this place he knew so well.

It didn't work of course. He ended up walking into one of the main rooms user for experimentation. Whether that was subconsciously his end goal all along or if it was just coincidence he walked there was anyone's guess. The room was dimly lit and as silent as a graveyard.

Gaster didn't mind this place, he never did. He had great memories in there. Late nights filled with laughing and joking with his coworkers. Hours spent with Sans and Betas as they worked on some new project Gaster had found interest in. Memories of Sans and him working together well into the morning. Its a good place.

Walking over to one of the supply cabinets, left in silence, Gaster fumbled around. He didn't know what he was looking for, exactly. He was just looking, simple as that.

Alright, admittedly he had been looking before he had found it. A old looking scalpel. Polished but dulled slightly from use. Of course, Gaster had used this for experiments before. Just experiments simple as that. Sometimes he'd even use this to open boxes, cut paper. Things like that.

Gaster looked down at his arms. Skin paper white, almost milky under what little light the room had to offer.

How easy would it be if.

Gaster rolled up his sleeves and jut one of his forearms out, the other arm holding the blade just above his skin, elbow jut out, in a position he would take if this was an experiment on some organic dead thing. 

Of course Gasters arm wasn't a dead organic thing however. He would take damage and his flesh, if severed would turn to dust.

His hand was still clammy from when he woke up before. But he kept the silver thing close to his arm. Cold and unforgiving, used during experimentation after experimentation, the scalpel was nearly controlling Gaster more than he controlled it.

Really, it was a weapon in his hands. It always had been.

Gaster stared at his arm. How much would it hurt to press. Press into his flesh, past his skin and muscle down to his bone. To cut off a piece of himself and to accept what happened next, no matter how ambiguous or threatening. Let himself turn to dust scattered along so easily-

The scalpel clattered onto the white tiled floor and the sound echoed along with the quick taps of Gasters shoes walking away from the experimentation room, back to his office, remembering the paperwork he had yet to sign.

Maybe he'd come back to this another day.


End file.
